The Illegitimate Daughter
by jaotvdspn1994
Summary: Regan Reynard's life seems to be taking a turn for the worst since the one person she ever really loved is going to die. What will happen when Kieth MacGee's daughter meets the vice president of SAMCRO? Set in season 3.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello my readers! I wanted to try something different this time around when it comes to writing a story. I wanted to write a fanfic taking place when Jax, Gemma, and the sons go to Belfast to get Abel back. I hope you enjoy, feedback is always welcome, just don't hurt me too much! :)**

Sixteen year old Zooey looked around the now clean and organized attic, beaming with self pride. She never put that much effort into cleaning anything before.

As her light brown eyes scanned the attic, they found the three boxes that were left unmarked that she moved toward the back of the attic. It was very odd. Everything in this attic was marked except for those four boxes. Zooey bit the inside of her bottom lip. The curiousity coursing through her veins was too much to handle. She needed to find out what was in those boxes.

Her legs brought her in front of the stack of boxes. She peeled back the aged tape that sealed the first box that was eye level, pulling the box's flaps out of the way.

It was a box of pictures.

Both of Zooey's hands reached inside, grabbing a small stack of photos. The first photo her eyes made contact with was of a beautiful smiling woman with hazel eyes and unruly bronzed colored curly hair wearing distressed dark denim jeans that were torn at the knees and a oversized black sweatshirt that clearly wasn't hers. She was straddling a motorcycle with a blonde haired hottie with slicked back hair sitting on the seat behind her with his arms wound tightly around her curvaceous body, planting a kiss on her cheek. Zooey brought the picture closer to her face, trying to see what his leather kutte read.

All her eyes could make out were the words: Men of Mayhem.

She furrowed her brows, flipping the picture over to it's opposite side.

Shit. Nothing was written on the back.

She went through the deck of pictures she had in her hands, trying to see if any of them had some kind of description written on the back of them to solve this little mystery that Zooey stumbled upon.

Nothing. Nothing whatsoever.

"Zoe, what are you doing, sweetheart?"

Zooey jumped, dropping the pictures back in the box, frantically closing the box, resealing it with the tape.

"Nothing nana."

Regan approached her granddaughter, touching her underneath her chin.

"Lying isn't your strong suit, Zoe. That's what got you in trouble in the first place, causing you to land here for the whole summer. You can tell me. I won't get mad."

"I was curious to know what was in the unmarked boxes, and I found pictures in the first one I opened. It was with a girl on a motorcycle with a guy riding bitch. Looked like he was tryin' to teach her how to ride."

Regan smiled, closing her eyes.

"I remember that day."

"Wait what? That was you in the picture nana? You dated a biker?"

"I did. For a long time actually."

"What happened? Why did you guys break up?"

"Zoe, it's a long story."

"Nana, I'm stuck here for the whole summer. I have all the time in the world. Please... please tell me about the guy in the picture."

"Alright. Let's get some food in your stomach first, then I'll tell you all about Jax Teller."

"Jax Teller? Even his name sounds badass," Zooey followed her grandmother down the spiraled staircase, leading to the main part of her home.

Regan let out a chuckle as they both entered the kitchen. Zooey took a seat at the kitchen table, propping her feet up on the chair adjacent to her as she watched her grandmother open the refrigerator door, taking cold cuts from the bottom draw of the fridge.

" Can you tell me now?"

"My goodness, you are so impatient. Just like your father."

"You know what they say, Nana. Apple doesn't fall far from the tree."

"This is true. I met Jackson when I lived in Ireland about.. phew, fourty five years ago and..."

"You lived in Ireland!"

"I did, Zoe. I just lived in America for so long, my accent just faded away. Now, I can't share the story with you if you continue to interrupt me."

"I'm sorry, it just feels like I'm getting to know a whole new side of you. I promise, no more interruptions," Zooey, planted her elbows on the table, cradling her face between her fists.

**Forty Five Years ago:**

Regan stood outside Ashby's with her arms crossed, her cigarette dangling from the tips of her right hand. Her eyes followed each and every passing car, curious as to where that person might be heading. All she knew was that she would love to live someone else's life for a day, hell even an hour. Shit seems to be getting worse by the second, and all she could do was stand there and watch it happen.

For example, her mother was diagnosed with Lukemia about a year ago, give or take. The first few months weren't so bad, but as time went on, Regan got to witness her strong mother become weak. She worked close to five jobs to pay for her medical bills and house related expenses since she wanted her mother to rest. She could have gone to her father for help, but she never could accept charity. She didn't go to college, date, or spend time with any of her friends. All her focus has been set on her mom because that's the way it was supposed to be. Her mother raised her on her own for the past twenty five years, always putting her first. Now it was time to return the favor.

Today, her mother decided to dump all her medication down the toilet. That caused a screaming match inside the Reynard household, nearly shaking the walls of their home. Those pills are the only thing that's keeping her alive. Her mother, Zooey, didn't see it that way. She said all they do is make her sleep, and she is just missing out on the time she has left in this world.

"Regan, are you okay?"

Regan turned her head, seeing her father stand on the side of her with a concerned expression on his face.

"I'm fine," Regan flicked the end of her cigarette with her index finger, causing the extented ash to fall onto the back stoned sidewalk.

"I don't believe that for a second," McGee stretched out his hand, wiping away a tear that fell from her eye with his thumb.

The man that was currently in Regan's presence was indeed her father. Keith McGee and her mother met twenty five years ago at one of the parties he and his club threw at the clubhouse each week. Her mother was informed of this party, and attended it with a few of her girlfriends. McGee was a horny cheating president who honed in on Zooey like a guided missile. One thing led to another, and that's how Regan became to be. McGee didn't know about her until her twenty fifth birthday four months ago. Zooey knew her life was coming to an end, and figured she would right all her wrongs. She thought keeping him away from her would be the best thing for Regan. She feared that if her daughter was exposed to McGee's lifestyle, she might follow her mother's messy footsteps.

"Ma stopped takin her meds," she brought the cigarette to her mouth, taking a long drag before dropping her arm back into its former position.

"Christ Regan, why the hell would she do something like that?"

"She said it's because they make her sleep too much, and she's missing out on life. But, her excuse sounds like she's giving up," frustration rode in the undertone of her voice.

"You have to put yourself in her shoes. Wouldn't you do the same thing?"

She didn't say anything. She dropped her cigarette on the stone, crushing it with her black combat boots.

Maureen peaked her head from inside the store.

"Regan baby, can you help me get the house set up for Samcro's arrival today? Trinny's still on holiday and won't be back till later tonight."

"Sure."

Maureen gave them both a smile, completely oblivious to the connection between McGee and Regan, giving a nod before heading back inside.

"Duty calls," Regan dragged her feet, not wanting to do anything except being in bed, crying her eyes out.

"Keep your head up, darlin'. You need to be strong for your ma."


	2. Chapter 2

Maureen finally finished unpacking hundreds of dollars worth of groceries into the cabinets and refrigerator of her home. There was going to be over a dozen people staying in her home, and the majority of them were men. She needed all the food she could her hands on. She gathered the empty paper bags, throwing them away in the near trash bin. Since she stopped doing what she was doing, it was the first time she realized her home was disturbingly quiet. She walked down the hallway, checking each of the bedrooms. All of the sheets were changed and the rooms were even tidied up. But no Regan.

She opened the door that could pass for a closet, making her way down the small flight of stairs which seperated her home from Ashby's.

She found Regan standing on the thick windowsill, balancing on the tops of her toes, with glass cleaner in one hand and a large amount of paper towels in the other.

"Regan, be careful. That windowsill is older than you. I don't need you fallin', busting your head open," Maureen stood behind her, holding a hand to her back for extra support.

"I'll be okay, Mo. I'm almost finished, anyways," Regan moved the glass cleaner in the crook of her arm to refold the paper towel, finding a clean side.

When Regan stood back on her toes, her oversized Rolling Stones shirt lifted up revealing a tattoo that stretched up her back, causing Maureen to stare at it in curiousity.

"You got a serious amount of ink on your back, love. What is it of?"

"It's a vine of roses going up my back to my lower. On the vine, if you look closely, it says, " Come what may, time and hour runs through the toughest day."

"What does that mean?"

"It means whatever happens, happens. English was my favorite subject in school."

Maureen smiled. That was the first thing she has ever known about her.

"When did you get it?"

"About four years ago. My mom came with me and helped pick it out."

"Your ma has a thing for tattoos?"

"She loves them. She's just too chicken shit to ever get one herself," Regan smiled, which was rare these days.

Her smile quickly diminished.

"It's okay to smile. I won't tell anyone."

"Considering what my mom is going through, it's really not."

"What is your mother going through?"

"She has Leukemia."

"Sweetheart, I'm so sorry. I can't imagine what you're going through. If you ever need some time off, don't hesitate to ask."

"Thanks Mo. Truthfully, I need all the money I can make to pay for her medical bills and housing expenses."

"Okay, but my offer will always be on the table."

Regan finished cleaning the now spotless window. Maureen stepped aside, removing her hand from her back. Regan bent her knees, jumping down from the windowsill.

As she turned away from the window, her ears heard the unmistakable sound of motorcycles approaching the alley.

She didn't know what it was, but every time she heard a motorcycle coming her way, her heart would begin to beat irregularly, causing a faint ache in her chest.

"Looks like they're here. You mind watching the store while I get everyone settled in?"

"Not at all. I'm sure I could find something else to clean while I wait anxiously for a customer to walk in."

Maureen rubbed her arm before making her way outside to greet SAMCRO and its queen.

Once the men distmounted their borrowed Harleys and Gemma was out of the follow van, McGee escorted them to his old lady.

"Hi, I'm Maureen. You'll meet my daughter Trinity later tonight."

"Gemma," she stretched out her hand, shaking Maureen's.

Jax's eyebrow raised at the odd tension between the two women.

"I'm Jax," he greeted, making an effort to erase the tension in the air.

"Nice to meet you Jackson."

He gave her a grin that formed from the corner of his mouth. His blue eyes looked past her, and fell onto the store that stood behind her. There was a hot... beautiful girl stocking the shelves with sadness in her breathtaking hazel eyes of hers.

He didn't realize he was staring at her for so long until he felt a gentle tap on his shoulder blade.

"You okay, son?", Clay questioned, removing his sunglasses.

"Yeah.. uh.. yeah, I'm fine."

"Good. Come on, Maureen and McGee are going to fill us in on what they know about Abel."

"Okay."

He stole one more glance at the girl who worked in Ashby's before he walked up the stairs on the side of the house.

Jax's head felt like it was going to explode if he didn't get his nicotine fix sometime soon. With the information Maureen and McGee gave, it was helpful, but not enough to point him into the direction of where Abel exactly was.

He jogged down the flight of stairs Maureen told him to use to ask Regan to give him a pack of smokes. Sure, his mom and the club had cigarettes on 'em, but he really wanted an excuse to talk to the girl in the store. Regan. That was different. It wasn't a name you would hear everyday. Like her beauty, her name was going to be in his mind, with no chance of leaving.

He opened the door, spotting her sitting on a stool behind the register with her back against the wall and her long legs up on the counter, writing in what looked like a journal that she was balancing on her thighs.

He wondered what she was writing in her journal. Would her words mirror any of the thoughts he jotted down himself or would it be polar opposite?

"Hi."

He began cursing himself as his "Hi" came out weak and shaky. No where near the word confident.

She looked up from her journal, closing it on her lap, staying in position.

"Hey."

Regan clenched her jaw violently to keep it from hitting the floor. Sure Ireland had its cute guys, but the one standing in front of her was out of this world handsome! Long blonde hair, blue eyes that seemed to stare right through you, a muscular build... just perfect. But, how was his personality? Most of the time if a guy is good looking, he tends to be the biggest asshole you think you will ever encounter. She was never one to pray, but she couldn't help but do so. Please don't be an asshole. Please.

What is she doing? She would never have a chance with a guy that looks like this. Guys like this only notice girls that look like Trinity, not her.

"What can I do for you?"

Jax bit the inside of his cheek. What can she do for me.. oh darlin', the list is endless, especially with that sexy Irish accent of hers.

"Maureen said I should come to see you for a pack of smokes."

Regan removed her feet from the counter, bringing them to the floor. She tossed her journal in her bag underneath the counter, standing to her feet, glancing at the wall of smokes behind her.

"You were told right. What would you like?"

"Parliments, short please."

She nodded, grabbing a pack from the shelf, tossing it on the counter.

He grabbed his wallet from the back of his jeans, fishing out a twenty dollar bill.

"I'm sure Maureen doesn't expect you to pay. It's fine."

"She doesn't, but I should anyway. Keep the change," he handed her the bill, giving her a smile.

She looked down at the register, opening it, sliding the bill into the draw.

"I'm Jax," he opened the pack of cigarettes, pulling one out with his teeth.

"Regan. Nice to meet ya."

He removed the cigarette, bringing himself closer to the counter. Though the counter stood between them, she took a step back.

"Regan, McGee is throwing a party tonight in the back of the alley. You think you'll be able to come?"

"I can't. Sorry."

"Cuz of your boyfriend, right?"

"No, I don't have a boyfriend. What makes you think I have a boyfriend?"

"Look at you. How could you not?"

"Because no guys ever talk to me."

"Probably because they're too much of a pussy to do so. Girls like you are intimidating as fuck. You just don't realize it."

The store's front door opened, causing Regan to jump, bringing herself out of the Jax haze. It was Trinity with her bags from her holiday in tow.

"Hey Regan."

"Hi Trinity. "

"Who's your friend," she eyed him up and down.

"Jax," he shook her hand, but she held onto it for a few seconds longer.

"You're the one I talked to the other day."

"Yeah."

" I'm Trinity."

"I gather."

Regan bent down, grabbing her journal, moving herself into her orginal position like nothing ever happened.


	3. Chapter 3

See... what did she tell you? No man who looks like Jax will even bother giving a girl who looks like her the time of day when Trinity Ashby enters the room.

Regan picked up her black inked pen that rested in the middle of her journal's pages, and resumed writing as Jax and Trinity continued their conversation.

"Sorry to cut this short darlin', but I have to go with Chibs to drop off Fiona and Kerianne at the mercenary."

"I'll come with," Trinity offered with a smile.

Jax glanced over at Regan, wishing she was the one willing to take a ride with him.

"Okay cool."

"Great, just let me drop off my bags in my room and I'll meet you outside."

"Alright, sounds good."

Trinity moved past Jax, walking up the stairs to her and her mother's apartment.

"Do you wanna come with?"

Regan looked up, shaking her head.

"No, I can't. I have to work. Besides, I doubt Trinity will want me tagging along, being the third wheel. She's clearly into you."

"She might be into me, but I'm not into her."

Regan scoffed, her head jerking slightly, not taking her eyes off her journal as she did so.

"Yeah right. All guys are into Trinity."

"I'm not all guys, Regan. I have eyes for the girl sitting in front of me."

Her eyes slowly shifted to the beautiful man's face.

Did he really just say that to her? Was she being set up? Did he make a bet with one of his buddies just to fuck with her head?

She started to chuckle, his expression staying serious.

"I needed that laugh. Thanks."

"You think I'm fucking with you?"

"Oh, I don't think. I know you're fucking with me."

"Sorry to dissapoint you, but I'm not. "

Regan shifted on her stool, feeling her whole body grow hot as his stare grew more intense as the seconds rolled by.

Please stop staring. Please stop staring. If he keeps staring at her, She's going to jump over the register counter, having him take her against the refrigerator by the store's entrance door.

Shit darlin', I wish you could see what I see."

"What do you see?"

"Jackie boy, you ready to go," Chibs called out from the top of the stairs.

"Yeah, I'm comin'."

" I hope you change your mind about tonight because I want to see you again."

"I told you, I can't," her voice laced with vulnerability, not rising over a whisper.

"Can't blame me for trying. Uh, do you mind scorin' me a lighter before I go? Mine's shot," He reached into his jean pocket, showing her his beloved silver lighter, hiding a piece of paper behind it.

Without getting up from her stool, she turned around, grabbing one of the lighters similar to the one he currently has from a plastic container, handing him one.

As she handed him the lighter, he placed the small piece of paper in her hand. She unfolded the paper once Jax headed out the store's door, rounding the corner to meet Chibs and his family in the alley.

Jax Teller

734-653-8840

Did that really just happen or did she fall asleep at the register, creating this entire moment in her head?

Regan got off work around nine at night, heading straight home on foot. She never needed to take her car when she had to work at Ashby's. It was less than three blocks away from her home.

She unzipped the zipper located on the flap of her bag, pulling out her house keys. She stepped up the three white paint chipped wooden stairs, preparing to unlock the front door.

She turned the doorknob, finding that the door was still locked. Regan pulled out the key, making sure she was using the right one. Yup, she was.

Why the fuck is the door not opening?

Regan began to knock on the door, waiting patiently for her mother to come to the door.

Zooey opened the living room window that was closest to the front door.

"Hi sweetheart."

"Hey mom. Why can't I get in the house?", she stood in front of the open window her mom was at.

"That's because your ma changed the locks."

"You did what? Why?"

"I want you to go out and enjoy yourself for a change. If I let you in this house, you will just turn into my caretaker, reading one of the many books you own to me until I fall asleep. That's no life for a twenty five year old."

" But, you need me here.."

"Regan, I'm sick, not crippled. I can take care of myself . Go get drunk, have some sex.. protected sex of course. When was the last time you got laid, and I don't mean by your purple colored friend that sits in your draw next to your bed that I came across while I was putting away your laundry earlier."

"Mom!"

"What? I know I'm telling the truth."

" Let me get this straight.. you're encouraging me to get wasted and have sex?"

"Yes, because that's what women your age do. I'll be okay, Re. I'll call you if I need you. I'm not letting you back in this house until you do what I ask of you."

"I'm not going to win this arguement, am I?"

"Nope. "

Regan walked into the alley, finding a party in full swing. She took a deep breath as she brought herself closer to the crowd of people while they watched a fist fight ensue between two of SAMBEL'S club members.

"Regan, you came," Trinity called out from the picnice table she was sitting at with two of her friends.

"Hey Trinny."

"Come join us," she waved her over, scooting over on the bench to make room on the bench for her.

Regan took a seat next to her. Trinity left for a moment, only to return with a few ice cold beers that she held by the nose of the bottles, setting them down on the table itself.

Regan picked up the one closest to her, twisting off the cap.

"Thanks Trinny."

"No problem."

Regan took a sip of her beer, closing her eyes as she felt the liquid run down her throat.

She couldn't remember the last time she had a beer. She crossed her leg over her left one, watching as Ryan O'Neill began getting his blood covered fists retaped.

"Anyone else?", he asked, looking around the alley.

"I'll do it."

Regan's hazel eyes found Jax, who was leaning against the clubhouse, smoking a cigarette.

"Let's see what you got, Laddie."

Jax nodded, dropping his cigarette to his feet, stepping on the but. He picked up a roll of tape from a nearby table.

Trinity stood to her feet, walking over to him.

"You want me to wrap you up?"

"Thanks, but I'm going to have someone else wrap me."

Her brows furrowed as he moved past her, standing in front of Regan.

"You showed."

" I was forced to, in a way."

"If that's your story," he teased, taking her hand in his, having her stand.

"You mind wrapping me, darlin'?"

"Sure."

McGee's body tensed as he saw Jax make a move on his daughter.

"You okay, Pres," Ryan asked, as a fellow croweater rewrapped his fists.

He didn't answer him, walking over to Regan and Jax.


	4. Chapter 4

With her teeth, Regan severed the tape from the roll, wrapping Jax's left and final hand.

She placed the nearly bare roll of tape on the wooden table behind her, resting both of her hands on her hips.

"How's that?"

Jax stretched out his arms in front of him, looking over his expertly taped knuckles. He lowered his arms to his side and smiled at her.

"It's perfect. Thanks."

"No problem."

"Jackson, quit flirtin' with the ladies. Let's get on with it, yeah?," Ryan yelled, getting a few laughs from the crowd surrounding him.

"Looks like that's your cue, Teller. Good luck."

"Don't need luck, darlin'. Hey, what do you say we get the hell out of here once I'm finished working O'Neill over?"

"Sure."

"Yeah?", surprised she agreed to his suggestion so quickly.

"Yeah."

He bit his bottom lip, stepping closer to Regan. With his right hand propped underneath her chin, he raised her chin for her to look at him. His left arm wrapped around her back, holding her against him in a firm grip, causing Regan to let out an audible gasp. He smiled, bending his upper body slightly, leaning in to kiss her.

McGee grabbed a hold of Jax's shoulder, getting a glare from the both of them.

"Jax, can we talk?"

"I'm kind of in the middle of something here, McGee."

"It won't take long. Promise."

Jax reluctantly let go of Regan, who was shaking her head at her father. She's twenty five years old, not fifteen! He can't dictate who she gets involved with!

McGee brought Jax over to an area of the alley where he couldn't feel Regan's eyes shooting daggers at him.

"What the hell is this about, McGee?"

"It's about Regan."

"What about her?"

"She's not just some croweater or a local whore."

"I know that."

"She's my daughter, son."

Jax's eyes widened. He turned his head, looking in the direction where he left Regan standing.

"Really?"

"Aye. Her ma and I hooked up a while back when I first got together with Mo. I had no idea Regan existed until a few months ago when her ma told me about her."

"Shit. Does the club know? What about Maureen?"

"I told the club. I haven't told Maureen yet. Strugglin' to find the right words. "

"You shouldn't put it off for long. The longer you wait, the worse it will be."

"I know. But promise me, you won't continue to pursue her. She has enough on her plate as is. I don't need you goin' and breakin' her heart."

"That's not my intention, brother. I like her, and I want to get to know her. This isn't just about me getting laid."

"Teller, I'm gettin' old over here!," Ryan grew restless, cracking his knuckles.

"Have you looked in the mirror? You're already fuckin' old, bro," Jax removed his shirt, handing it to McGee, making his way over to O'Neill.

"You ready for an actual Irish beatdown, laddie?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that question," Jax took his first swing, hitting Ryan in the jaw, causing him to stumble.

Once Regan spotted McGee alone, she strolled over to him, leaning against the paint chipped wall.

"Why did you do that, McGee?"

"Because you're my daughter, and I'm just looking out for you. "

"I'm twenty five. I'm a big girl now."

"That may be so, but that doesn't mean a parent stops looking out for their kids once they are grown. You'll understand when you have a few kids of your own runnin' around."

Jax walked away from the fight nearly unscathed while Ryan was getting patched up by one of the croweaters inside the clubhouse.

Regan was currently sitting on top of one of the tables, clapping as a sweaty, shirtless Jax approached her. He playfully took a bow, making her laugh.

"Impressed?"

"Very. You're probably one of the best fighters I've seen."

"You're just saying that to get me in the sack."

"You caught me, though I doubt it takes much to get you in the sack. Here I figured you could use one of these," Regan tossed him a white folded up towel.

"Thanks. You ready to go?", he asked, wiping the sweat from his face.

"Yeah. Go put a shirt on, and I'll meet you out front," Regan finished off the last of her third beer, hopping off of the table.

"That's the first time a chick has ever asked me to put a shirt on."

"There's a first time for everything."

As Regan passed Trinity and her friends, Trinity shot her a dirty look. Regan shrugged it off, giving her a smile in return. She always got the guy. Now, it was her turn.

Jax found her out in the front of Ashby's waiting for him like she promised.

"You have an idea where you wanna go?", Jax asked, fishing for his pack of cigarettes out of his sweatshirt that he had in his hand.

"Yeah, but it's a bit of a drive. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, that's cool. We'll take my bike."

"Okay."

As Jax took the lead to his borrowed harley, Regan couldn't wipe of the arrogant smile that found her face. She felt like she just hit the lottery just by being around this man. She loved that feeling, and hoped it wasn't going to go away anytime soon.

"Here."

Jax handed her his black sweatshirt that contained the reaper on the back, along with his helmet.

"What about you?"

"Don't worry about me. When you're on my bike, your safety comes first."

"Shouldn't it be the other way around?"

"It should, but it's not."

Regan pushed her head and arms through the oversized sweatshirt, letting it fall to the middle of her thighs. Using Jax's shoulders for support, she mounted the bike, securing the helmet on her head once she was sitting down. Jax started up the bike, bringing her arms around his waist before he drove off.

She wasn't kidding when she said the place she wanted to go to was a bit of a drive. They were a good hour away from the clubhouse, no doubt getting lost if she wasn't coming back with him. Her directions led the both of them to a treeline that contained a steep hill through the trees.

"We aren't going in there, are we?", he asked as she handed him her helmet.

"You bet your ass we are."

"Is this the part where you kill me? Just tell me now so I at least have a heads up."

"No, murder isn't on my agenda. Just trust me. I promise, I'll keep you safe," Regan took his hand, and they began walking in the woods that was lit up by the full moon over their heads.

There was a few trails within the trees as they continued to walk. Jax began to feel pressure building in his ears as they advanced on the trail that led them straight.

"Can I ask what brings you and your family to Belfast? Don't take this the wrong way or anything, but I find it hard to believe it's just some kind of family reunion."

"It kind of is. My.. my son was taken, and brought here. Now, me and my family are looking for him."

"Oh my god, Jax, I'm so sorry. Have you gone to the cops?"

"Cops won't do shit, so we have to."

"Jesus. I can't imagine.."

"You don't want to, believe me."

"Well, if you need my help, just let me know. I'm willing to make the effort to help you find your son."

"You barely know me."

"True, but there's a baby boy out there without his father. I'm willing to help bring him back where he belongs."

"I appreciate that, Regan."

She nodded, taking a sharp left on the trail. She stopped walking as Jax came up next to her.

"Holy shit."

"It's amazing, isn't it?"

Regan led him to a spot in the woods where they could see over the entire town. The moon looked even bigger than it did before as if you could touch it as it now shined down over her town.

"My mom used to take me hiking up here when I was little. We used to stay until it got dark out just to stand here and stare. It seems like the world isn't so fucked up when I'm up here. There's no such thing as violence, sadness, worries. Just peace."

"I have a place like this back home. Except it's not in the woods or anything."

"Where is it?"

"It's on the roof of our clubhouse. Feels like that's the only place I can actually think."

"Where do you live?"

"Charming, california."

"I've always wanted to go to California. I just didn't have the money to go. I don't really have the cash to go anywhere, unfortunately."

"I'll take you if you want. "


End file.
